Dr. Ea$y's Cigar Box Goes South. Sort of.

 The other night I was sitting around the wood stove and scrolling through Facebook when I came upon some intriguing posts by Gypsy Elise..... 

"Digby" Shot; Another Hit for Trumbull Studios?

On a recent gloriously Berkshire July morning Marky-T, the Samster and I (along with my dear Claudia who took these photos!) reconnoitered at Doug Trumbull's MAGI studios to begin the filming of our first music video.  Hidden deep in the South County woods, MAGI studios occupies a goodly portion of 50 acres of techie geek paradise.  As the photos attest, the film, audio and lighting gear is 1st-rate extraordinary, say nothing of the world-class guy who is behind it all.  Doug Trumbull is as gentle, kind and humble a man as he is creative, innovative and brilliant.

 

Trumbull and TamPro to Merge Forces

Movie special effects pioneer Doug Trumbull and TamPro to combine forces?  Looks like it.  For a short while, anyway.  And my mind is totally blown!  Those who've known me awhile have likely suspected something was awry - and now I can confirm the suspicions. But I also can assure you that my current state is not unwarranted, nor is it considered life-threatening. In fact, it is totally awesome. Dr. Ea$y got wind of this and wanted to know every li'l t'ing, so I told him:

 

Would a Cactus by Any Other Name Penetrate as Deep?

The other morning as I was retuning from my walk to Drunk Bay where I'd shot some promotional photographs of my cigar box guitar amongst the whimsical coral, rock and found object sculptures, obelisks and wacky who-knows-what that folks have created along this wild and windswept stretch of uninhabited beach, I had an awkward, somewhat surreal encounter that bears retelling.

Kelvinator

 

 Upon arriving at my funky little lime-green Shackteau in Coral Bay, St. John after what had been 16 hours of grueling car/plane/boat travel carrying with me a few guitars, a PA and enough clothes to last three months, I crawled out of my tired old Hyundai rental car, arms loaded with luggage and guitars. I stumbled down the dark path and kicked open the old, white door to the shack. The delicious, old 'home again at last' feeling of relief and joy was quickly dispelled as I turned on the light and saw what was standing there to greet me.

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